


a tourist in the waking world

by alderations



Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [25]
Category: The Bifrost Incident - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dissociation, Gen, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Whumptober 2020, odin behavior specifically, this is literally just loki boarding the train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: Hushed, furious voices rouse Loki from a feverish sleep. This happens every morning, she thinks, but when she tries to recall a single morning before this one, the static in her head rises to a dull roar and she clamps her hands over her ears to stop it. She’s still lying like that, curled up with her fingers tangled in her matted hair, when the guards burst into her room and grab her by the elbows.(Whumptober Day 25: disorientation/blurred vision/ringing ears; Mechtober Day 25-27: TBI)
Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950916
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	a tourist in the waking world

Hushed, furious voices rouse Loki from a feverish sleep. This happens every morning, she thinks, but when she tries to recall a single morning before this one, the static in her head rises to a dull roar and she clamps her hands over her ears to stop it. She’s still lying like that, curled up with her fingers tangled in her matted hair, when the guards burst into her room and grab her by the elbows.

“Stop,” she yelps, kicking out with bare feet as they drag her from her bed.  _ “Stop!  _ What are you doing to me?”

One guard twists an arm behind her back and marches her toward the door. “Put your shoes on. The Allmother wants to see you.”

Loki’s blood chills at the sound of that name, but she doesn’t understand why. As soon as she slides her shoes on, the other guard handcuffs her, and then she’s shoved into the dim hallway, where she quickly realizes that it’s the middle of the night. The sky outside is black in an almost docile way, until Loki stares up at it for too long and spots of some inexorable color start to dance across her vision.

She looks down at her feet instead.

After a brief walk down a series of increasingly ornate corridors, Loki is shoved to her knees at the foot of a throne carved from bismuth that swims in front of her eyes. The soft ringing in her ears grows to a shrill drone as she looks up at the woman sitting on the throne. She’s got a black eyepatch covering one eye, and Loki’s vision can’t seem to focus on her other eye without drifting away. Her face is gaunt, framed by silver braids and the high collar of a deep blue coat that falls nearly to her ankles.

“Are you prepared for the journey, dear?” the woman asks. Her voice is too soft, almost  _ peppy,  _ as she leans in toward Loki.

Something in Loki’s head screams at her not to respond, but she doesn’t want to know what’ll happen if she gives in to that instinct. “What journey,” she croaks.

The woman just laughs. That’s all the response she wanted, apparently, because she draws herself to her feet and then steps forward to rest a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “That’s what I thought. Let’s board, then.”

Instead of dragging her by her elbows, the guards link a chain to her handcuffs and yank her along as if she’s on a leash. The humiliation isn’t lost on her, even as she struggles to remember who the terrifying woman is and why everything feels so  _ horribly  _ wrong.

“Where are we going?” she manages after a few minutes of walking.

One guard unsheathes a weapon that she can’t identify, and it buzzes with latent electricity. “Odin didn’t give you permission to speak.”

_ Odin.  _ The name spears Loki’s heart with terror, but it still means nothing to her. Still, she doesn’t ask any other questions until the four of them stop just inside a massive set of doors. They’re dark wood, filigreed with gold patterns that swim in front of Loki’s eyes, and they creak softly as one guard steps forward to push them open.

On the other side, all she sees is shifting, brilliant color.

Loki’s heart pounds in her throat. Something is wrong, something is going to come crashing down around them, and she’s helpless to stop it. As Odin strides forward, shoulders squared and head high, the shape in front of her starts to coalesce—sharp corners, shaded windows, silvered wheels resting on a track that makes Loki’s head throb.

The guards push her toward the train. Loki screams.

At once, Odin turns around with fire in her eye, and one of the guards slaps a hand over Loki’s mouth to quiet her. “I’ve kept you alive this long,” Odin hisses, face suddenly inches from Loki’s. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Loki goes still in the guard’s grip, and they let go of her face, though the electric weapon at her back keeps crackling. “No,” she whispers.

“You’re really not in a good place to protest, dear. We can’t have anyone finding out that you’re alive, after all this time.”

“No,” Loki repeats. “You don’t understand—no. Please. Please don’t make me get on that train.”

She knows nothing about the train, but every remaining shred of lucidity in her mind is begging her to turn and run as far away from it as she can get. Its wrongness pierces through the undulating static in her head, telling her that she’s going to die and Odin and the guards and ████ are going to die and they’ll all be fucking consumed by ███ ███████ and then █████ will—she can’t see the train in front of her anymore. She’s on her knees. Her vision is static, all she hears is static, and there are strong hands hoisting her up by the armpits even though she’s taller than either of the guards. By the time her eyes clear enough to see her surroundings, she’s already shoved in the corner of a posh train car, gulping air around what she knows will grow into a panic attack. She’s no longer cuffed, but her hands shake and standing to face Odin feels like an impossible task.

Instead, she just glares up at the Allmother through eyes inexplicably overflowing with tears. “Please don’t do this,” she begs, even though she doesn’t know what’s being done in the first place. “You don’t understand what you’re about to do.”

“Neither do you,” Odin replies with a smile.

Then she leaves, locking the door behind herself, and Loki clutches her head in agony.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO FOLKS IT'S LOKI SIMP O'CLOCK!!!!!! I HAVE BEEN WAITING WITH BATED FUCKING BREATH FOR THE TBI DAYS! conveniently, I was also struggling to maintain the bare minimum of a grasp on reality today, so that made it a bit easier to get into the Loki headspace. Consequently, this might make no sense. And it's short. I was at work for... a long time.
> 
> anyway, please comment if you feel so inclined & Get Ready cuz the last 2 days of the month are gonna be extra painful and it's only gonna ramp up to that. >:3c


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